


Familiar Craft

by Alliswell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, EFE 2018, F/M, Familiar!Buttercup, First Child Payment, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Katniss is OOC, Magical Contract, Peeta's POV, Witch Curses, Witch!Katniss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-05-15 17:44:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: Believing to be cursed, Peeta Mellark calls on The Witch of the Woods, the only feasible solution to his problems, and he’s willing to pay his bad luck away, no matter how steep the price.Based on the Tumblr Everlark Fic Exchange challengePrompt 65:Years ago, you promised your firstborn to a witch. Since then, despite your best efforts, you can’t seem to get laid. The witch is starting to get pretty pissed.Y’all get together to discuss your options and she starts coaching you on how to get dates because she doesn’t want to waste more magic on you without promise of payment. The more time you guys spend together the more you realize you have a bit of a crush on her. Soon you’re sabotaging your dates on purpose to see her again. Long story short, you fall in love and get married AND YOUR FIRSTBORN IS HERS BY DEFAULT. [submitted by Anonymous]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Hunger Games and everything about them belong to Susanne Collins, I'm just putting the characters is unlikely situations for fun!
> 
> Thank you so much sunsetsaremydream@tumblr.com for the gorgeous banner! I was excited to post this story just so everyone could see it! 
> 
> Thank you Anonymous for the awesome prompt, I loved it.
> 
> this Fic has not been betaed. All mistakes are mine.

 

It was my 17th birthday, and life had dealt me an absolutely dismal hand.

My mother walked out on us a few weeks short of my 16th birthday, but by then we were too big and strong to control any more by the throbbing of fists, or the stinging of open palms on our flesh, we had learned that our wills didn’t have mold to the shape she gave us through knuckles and verbal battery.

She screamed to the heavens above her, as she walked out the door, that nothing on the land she was denied a loving family with a doting husband and submissive sons AND daughters, would stand the time and survive. And that was that.

Then, father’s heart stopped working one day, leaving my siblings and I alone suddenly. My brother Graham was old enough to take over ownership of the bakery and my brother Bran and mine’s custody. It was a lot for an 19 year old boy who just lost both parents, but he did as everything he could to keep things afloat, until the accident.

One of our ovens wasn’t cleaned properly. There was a large residue of lard that came in direct contact with the flames, and the fire just spread higher and higher. Bran and Graham took their aprons off and started beating the flames, but the cloth just got saturated with the now melted fat, and tongs of for just followed them whichever way the aprons flew.

Remembering the many warnings my father had gave us, I pour as much baking soda as I could pick up on my bare hands on the inferno, but it wasn’t enough.

Other people came and saw that my tactic was working the best and they simply picked up the container of baking soda from the ground and dumped on the ovens.

The damage was incalculable. But the worst part was my brothers injuries. They both sustained scorching burns to their arms, legs, torsos… for a time I thought I’d even lose Graham, since he got them the worse.

That when the whispers started to spring from everywhere. The curse of the Mellark bakery was soon all the town could speak off.

Since I was the only one left unharmed, I took to baking dawn to dusk in the only oven we had left out five, just so we could still make coins, and when the baking was done, I’d nurse my brothers back to health as best as I could. But ingredients where running low, the quality of the bread was suffering too, one boy couldn’t possibly maintain all the work of 4 men, and still go home to tend sick siblings.

My sales were already hurting, and the building of the bakery simply shifted and fell on account of the fires damaging some beams. The odds weren’t in my favor.

More than enough people walked straight up to me, and proclaimed me cursed, and although, I had never been one to put stock in superstitions like the rest of my town, I started to believe their spiel once things didn’t improved, but seemed to get worse.

I was so down in spirit, that I started procuring fixes I had heard of from popular old wives tales. I tried any tradition, recipe, and rituals recommended to me as long as it promised to turn my fortune around, then came the lucky charms and amulets people swore by.

Then it escalated to more obscure remedies.

The crazier, more fantastic and unusual the suggestion was to better my situation, the more determined I became to try it. It wasn’t until I poured a whole basin full of urine and waste from my neck down, because the stench would repel bad spirits and curses, that I realized all of the cures were pointless, empty attempts at something that was probably never going to help.

But, there was something else. Someone else I had yet to try. Yet, the thought of it, scared me to core.

“Call her,” my middle brother whispered tremulously as I changed the bandages on his mangled arm. “What else can go wrong?”

He was right.

We didn’t have much else to lose; we were pretty much broke on our asses, with no prospects of improvement, or discernible solution.

A cold chill ran down my spine.

I nodded. It was time to call on her. She was probably our last hope.

The day started chilly, but the sky was clear and a young sun was slowly climbing higher as promise of a bright day ahead; always a good sign!

headed to the market, hoping to be in and out of there in no time with the information I needed. However, my mission proved to be harder than I thought, and ‘no-time’ became many hours of nothing but grunted warnings of “get out of here and never ask those questions again,” or the equally unnerving hissed pleads of “Not so loud! Are you an idiot or something?”.

Everybody knew of her, but not many people were inclined to talk about it, not even the ones that openly frequented her.

Witch, they called her. Sorceress, enchantress, seer.

There also were the less flattering names some of the women gave her: sinner, loose, temptress.

Truth was, everyone refused to even say her name too loud, for fear she’ll mistake it for a summon and came knocking on their door. I guess I should’ve started with that and saved myself the trouble of trudging around town all day.

“Katniss, Lady of the Woods,” I whispered dragging out the last syllable of her name with reverence.

When nothing happened, I smiled ruefully to myself. Then again, something told me it would take more than just saying her name aloud to bring her into town.

In a last ditch effort, I ventured into The Hob, an old, dilapidated warehouse, that had been abandoned for years, until illegal brewers started selling bootlegged liquor, and soon other banned goods were added to list of merchandise bartered for in secret, creating a very profitable black market of sorts.

The Hob's arranged in two aisles stacked with little stands bearing all kinds of wild artifacts for sale. I’ve been there on multiple occasions before, when I foolishly thought I could help myself out of my issues with cheap amulets. If I was going to find any useful intel on how to bring the Lady from the Woods here, the Hob was the place for it, and for the right price, I was right.

Too bad I had no coins or goods to trade for secrets. Nobody wanted stale and hardened bread.

I thought my day had been a waste. I was starving, and my feet were killing me from going from stall to stall trying to finagle, or even bribe information from the stubborn people of my town, so I started for the exit of the warehouse, dejected and downtrodden.

But a little old lady waved me down holding a ladle in one hand, and her free hand on her hip.

“Come boy! Have a hot bowl of my nutritious squirrel stew! It’ll put some pep back in your step, m’dear.”

I sighed and turned to acknowledge the lady and politely decline her offer.

“Thank you much, ma’am. But truth be told, although your stew does smell delicious from where I’m standing, I don’t have much to trade for it at the moment.”

The lady cackled merrily, “Did I asked for a trade, boy?”

She stared at me with amused, sharp, gray eyes for a second, while I tried to decipher if her question had been rhetoric or not.

“I don’t need any payment from you, boy, but you look like you need a bite of something substantial to fill them hollow cheeks with some color.”

She had a point. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten something fresh, but I wasn’t about to let on about that fact.

I feebly tried refusing once more, before taking a seat on a wobbly stool at her stand, the whole time making a show at how reluctant I was about it, but once she sat the piping hot stew in front of me, I surprise even myself by how fast I cleaned the bowl.

The old lady laughed merrily, ladling another serving into my dried bowl. This time all I could muster was a genuinely grateful nod of acceptance, while wondering if she’d be offended if I took the rest of the stew home for my brothers.

She seemed to have be reading my mind, or maybe it just was that my worries were that evident.

“Let me make you a deal boy,” she started, her piercing eyes scanning my face.

I gulped my spoonful of stew painfully, I knew the food wasn’t gonna come free. I knew some retribution was to be paid at some point, I was just surprised the collection came so fast.

I looked up at her almost fearful, but her smile was so kind and her eyes though soul searching, where warm and understanding, I just nodded.

“I’m gonna tell you all you need to do to call Katniss to you,” She said, studying me.

My eyes widened for a moment. I looked around us, making sure we hadn’t been overheard.

“How did you know?” I asked a little startled.

She chuckled. “Boy, everyone knows about the Mellark’s curse. Everyone in the Hob has made a shiny penny out of you selling you trinkets that wouldn’t have work even on a common cold.

“There’s a betting pool going around at your expense, boy.” says the old woman gauging my reaction. “People been waiting for the moment you finally break down and call for her.”

“Why?” I ask confused, hurt and offended.

The lady simply shaked her head sadly. “You’ve endured so much, for longer than anyone should.

“That said, not everyone has your patience and strength, and that’s a good thing, kid. So here’s what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna help you call Katniss to help you, but I’m gonna warn you, there’s a price for her visit, and you must pay up front if you want her to help you.”

“And what would you want in return?” I asked suspiciously.

The old woman’s eyes twinkled then, “Ah, old Sae doesn’t want much, my pet. Just a steady supply of bread when your fortune turns.”

“How much bread? How long?” This supposing the odds get in my favor at all.

There was something in old Sae’s eyes besides the sly twinkle that characterized Hob vendors: hopeful expectation.

“My bargain, if you chose to strike it, is to provide me and my granddaughter of fresh, hearty bread, until my grandchild can support herself. I’m all she’s got, and I’m getting up in age. You’d do me a great favor, and all it’d cost you is the restoration of your good luck.”

“What if I default?” I asked with apprehension.

“Oh, that doesn’t worry me one bit. Katniss will see to that. She will know how to hold you accountable.” She smiles toothily, full of confidence. “What say you, boy? Do we have a deal?”

Dispelling a stuttering breath, I extended my hand and contract was sealed as soon as she took my palm in hers.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure about this, Peeta?” Asked my brother from the askew frame of back door of what was left standing from our old bakery.

I looked at him, rubbing the spot on his arm where his injury bothered him the most.

I nodded, “We have no choice Bran. It’ll be alright. Our luck will turn around, I can feel it in my bones!”

“What if she asks for something we can’t give her?” Bran asks limping just out of the door.

“You let me worry about it. Father always said I was the best barter!” I told him, faking a cocky smirk, while fighting off the urge to run for the hills I felt rising inside.

My brother simply gave me a grimace that was supposed to look like a smile, “I hope you’re successful, little brother. Forgive me and Graham for not being more help?”

I looked at him fondly. “Thank you Bran. You both do enough as it is. We will figure this all out.!”

My brother finally slinked inside the crumbling building that used to be our family’s livelihood, and I readied myself for follow the instructions old Sae jutted down for me earlier that afternoon.

I took a deep breath, and opened the bag full of critter innards I need as part of the ritual. It was a good thing I convinced Sae trade the guts for a set of wooden spoons that still looked pretty new, otherwise I don’t think I would have had the means to acquire such an odd ingredient. I placed the disgusting bits as nicely as I could in a teacup on its saucer. I added a few catnip leaves, per Sae’s suggestion, as garnish.

I didn’t quite understand it, but the woman has summoned The Witch many a times, she’s well verse in the requirements.

I checked my notes again, ran down the list of gifts and arranged my meager offerings.

I placed the gifts of flowers in a tin watering can that survived the fire that destroyed my home. The only flowers in bloom were the often overlooked dandelions, I collected both yellow and white seeded heads, everything else was still dead, or just beginning to bud.

Then, last, the gift of food, old woman Sae insisted I had to give the best food I had in my possession, the best thing I had, the only thing I had left in my entire bakery, was a loaf of hearty raisins and nuts bread, that was just a tag burnt on one end.

That, I placed in clean cloth and held against my chest for safe keeping.

I was supposed to placed all my offerings at the foot of a tree, and chant a prayer while holding the prize I thought was the most worthy.

There was only one tree in the plot of land the bakery stood on. An old, scraggly Apple tree, too weak and pathetic to even bear fruits. But that’s where I went.

I laid a wool blanket at the foot of the apple tree, then as carefully as I could, I placed my tree gifts on the blanket and then took a last look at the ruins of the bakery, lamenting everything I had lots, all the suffering my brothers and I had to faced until this point, and I knew it was time to end this streak of awful luck.

I was ready!

I knelt on the hard, frozen ground in front of the tree and the offerings, held my burnt loaf of bread aloft to the skies, and took a deep, deep breath, and let the words old lady Sae couched me to recite by heart, flow out of my mouth as if this was the sweetest love letter I’ve ever sent out.

“Root in the water, tip of the arrow, bearer of fire, air under mockingjay wings, I summon thee, Lady of the Woods, Kat—“

“Burnt bread, why what a peculiar gift!” A voice as soft as silk spoke over my shoulder, causing me to freeze in an incomprehensible panic.

Every hair in my body stood on point; my breath caught on my throat right along with a shriek that couldn’t get past my thumping heart as it tried to escape my body out of my mouth.

When a warm puff of air that smell faintly of mint collided with the shell of my ear, I turned slowly towards it, too see who was it interrupting my ritual.

But lo the shiniest gray eyes I’ve ever met peered right back me, brimming with curiosity and mirth.

My eyes widened in surprise. The girl stood back a moment like a confounded gekko, and then smirked the most mischievous smile I’ve ever seen.

“Right!” she chuckled rolling her eyes ruefully, “I’m supposed to introduce myself!” in the blink of an eye, her nose was a hair's breadth from mine, and she whispered lowly, “I’m Katniss.”

When my eyes only widened, she breathed out an eerie,

“Boo!”

I wish I could say my response to her antics was manly and brave, but the truth is that I shrieked as high pitched as a little girl, and fell on my ass in my haste to retreat from her.

Katniss skipped around me giggling merrily, “Peeta, stand up!” She called from above me, covering her laughter with one hand, while lowering her other in front of me, to help me up.

I was petrified in the ground, sprawled legged and scraped palms.

She was the oddest thing I’ve ever seen: she was short in stature, about 6 inches shorter than me, her long dark hair hanged down her back in a loose braid that swayed gracefully every time she moved. Her skin was a creamy olive color, not unlike people from the Seam side of my village, and her eyes were a shifting gray, that somehow looked like tongues of fire dancing in the depths of her irises.

Her attire was also peculiar. She wore a long gossamer black skirt, with sturdy dark trousers underneath, a fitted leather vest over green wide collar, loose sleeve blouse. Lester lace up boots as high as her shins completed her ensemble. I had never seen anyone dressed quite like her, but I guess what really caught my eye, was her youth.

She didn’t look a day inlet than me, and I wonder how she managed such a feat. Were the entrails she demanded what kept her so fresh faced?

I finally took her hand.

Her laughter quieted when I finally found my footing. She smirked, while her slate gray eyes danced in amusement between my own that after the initial shock of the encounter, were riveted to her surprisingly beautiful face.

“Alright, enough monkeying around! Tell me Peeta Mellark, are you going to explain your gift of burnt bread, or should I go ahead, be offended by it, and curse you for your audacity and lack of respect right here and now?” She pursed her pink, full lips, in a mock scowl.

Instead of answering her question, I blurted our one of my own, “You know my name?”

She rolled her eyes again, this time less amused.

“Of course I know your name. How would I come to the right seeker if I didn’t know who they were?” She finally laughed. “I’m sorry for startling you. I couldn’t resist.” She offers.

“Now back to the bread? Isn’t this the fare your mother served to her pigs?”

Her face is hard to read, she could be either smiling or grimacing, I’m not sure.

“Well?” She posed expectantly

“I-no! That’s not- I swear, this isn’t what it looks like! The loaf isn’t burnt… I mean, it is, but just the crust! The inside is completely unharmed, I promise, Miss Everdeen… mistress! Mistress Everdeen” I tripped on my own words, impressed I was even able to emit sounds out of my mouth all

The whole time, Katniss just studied my face arching one eyebrow, as if truly waiting for an explanation. I realized I had to get myself under control, calm down and give her a coherent clarification about the situation.

I closed my eyes real tight, forced my lungs to work slowly, and pleaded with my heart to slow down as well. When I thought I was sufficiently under control, I tried in vain to maintain eye contact with her.

“This is the last fresh loaf of bread in my house.” I started, “everything else is gone. I knew I had to offer you something special, so I brought this loaf, because it was the last thing my siblings and I have left to eat.”

“And you give it to me freely?” She asked lightly. “Please do not fib. I can tell if you do.” She more pleaded than warned.

Embarrassed, I bowed my head to the ground. It took a second, but I finally responded.

“The bread is a sacrifice. Not much for myself, but for my brothers. I would give away anything for them.” I sighed, “I give you this offering freely, to save the ones I love.”

She leaned close to me, and lifted my eyes to her with touch of her cool fingers under my chin. “The gift is accepted. I will grant you one wish for the bread. Ask and by nightfall you’ll have your answer.”

“I want my brothers to be healed,”

“As you wish. Come to the edge of the wood to bring home a tincture they have to bathe in.”

“And what of my favor, the one I truly want you to hear of?” I asked equal parts agitated, scared and relieved.

“Oh? There’s more?” There was and edge of humor in her question, and her eyes quickly glanced at the dilapidated bakery beside us. “I’m just teasing. I know what it is you want, Peeta Mellark, youngest son of the baker.

“Come to my home in the morning. Bring your gift of flowers, if none dies overnight, then I’ll grant you a real audience.”

“What about the entrails?” I asked desperately. “How would I know where you live? I’ve never been to the woods?”

She huffed impatiently, tapping her foot to the ground. “If the entrails” She scrunched up her nose in disgust, “are a pleasing tribute, then my guide will come fetch you and lead you on the right path.”

She picked up the teacup and saucer, and gave them a revolted glance. She placed it in a small pouch she produced from inside her skirt, and tucked in the strings into a loop of her vest.

“Don’t be late!” She announced, walking away from him.

“You didn’t say what time?” I called after her.

“What would be the fun in that? I have to keep you in your toes!” She laughed over her shoulders, and I was transfixed by the sound.

She turn around the corner, and I just had to see where was she headed, so I picked my head on the side of the wall.

She skipped to a halt, and placed her fists on her hips.

“What are you doing?” She chastised a hydrangea bush on my neighbor's sidewalk. “Are you stalking me?”

A furry orange ball shot from under the low branches, and into the pouch she had put the guts in the teacup in, just now it was as big as a knapsack.

She gasped.

“What?” She asked in aggravation. “How dare you imply that?”

A beat passed and she shook from head to toe with an indignant growl.

“You insolent, little, vermin! I did not do such a thing! I’ll have you know, boys are well below my concern, even handsome ones! Now shut up and eat your tripes!”

A hard tap of her foot on the stone sidewalk, and she disappeared from my sight.

I blinked confusedly. I came out of my hiding spot, I lurked in a circle around the place I last seen her, but she had vanished leaving no traces behind.

My old childhood friend, Delly Cartwright was staring from her shop across the street. She rushed to me and asked fearfully.

“Was that… Katniss?” She whispered the name covering her mouth with both hands.

“Yeah,” I responded stupidly.

“She just…”

“Vanished!”

“Did you call her?” Delly asked.

I nodded. “I have to come collect a remedy for Bran and Graham, and tomorrow I must venture into the woods for the next part of my trail.”

“Do be careful. I have never heard of a person to venture into her realm, and come back unharmed.”

Truth be told… I’ve never heard of a person venture into her realm, period. But that’s what she commanded, and that’s what I was doing.


	2. The Price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!!!!
> 
> Beautiful Banner by sunsetsaremydream@tumblr.
> 
> Un betaed and hastily edited. Mistakes are probably copious

I was standing at the edge of the woods at sunset. My hands tucked into my raggedy coat pockets, as nervous as I had been earlier, when I met the witch for the first time. Only difference was the pent up energy I couldn’t get rid off. I hopped up and down like the springs in our sole surfing mattress that had seen better days. Wishing I had something warm to offer Katniss when she came to deliver the tincture for my brothers ailments, but my lack of food was still true right then.

“Where are you Ms. Katniss?” I asked under my breath looking intently at the dense vegetation that grew beyond the trees closest to me.

An orange fur cat with a squished up face and bushy tail strutted out of the foliage and exuding a certain air of superiority. The cat sauntered in my direction and I almost laughed at myself for thinking the feline looked annoyed. I didn’t because I realized the little fur ball was dragging a small silk pouch that dumped at my feet almost disdainfully.

“Um… is this for me?” I asked the cat uncertain, feeling utterly ridiculous for talking to an animal, but I could’ve sworn the cat rolled his yellowish eyes at me.

I leaned down to pick up the pouch and tried to scratch my messenger in gratitude, but the cat glared at me and sauntered back into the cluster of bushes leading to the woods with his tail held high.

All I did was stare in the animal’s direction marveling at how much personality the creature had. I opened the silk bag and found two vials containing a translucent purple liquid and a small scrap of paper: “add one to bath water and soak for 30 minutes.”

“I guess I’m giving my brothers a bath each.”

 

* * *

 

Graham was first to bathe. Then it was Bran’s turn. I did all: filled the tub with water, warmed part of it on the stove since we didn’t have running water, then empty one vial on the soapy bath; help my brother out if his clothing, help him into the tub, wash up his arms, torso, face and legs and let him deal with his own privates. Then he soaked in the tincture for the prescribed time, until the water ran cold and my poor brother was shivering. Helped him out, help him dry up and into clean clothes. Tuck him in bed and start all over with my second brother.

It was hard work helping my brothers. They were taller and more muscular than me even with all the weight we’ve lost in the last few weeks. I was tempted to go to bed right then, but I had to prepare for my trip into the woods in the morning. I started working on procuring food for all four of us, because I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to bring Katniss something to eat as well and with my luck of late, it was better to be prepared.

I stepped outside the decrepit remains of the bakery and stared forlornly at the squiggly apple tree behind our home. Only, I was surprised to spot three perfectly ripped apples, ready to be picked and at the perfect height my arm didn’t need to stretch too far to reach them. When I had gathered all the fruit in my arms, a held one apple up to my eyes to inspect it, rubbing my thumb over the crisp, delicate red skin. All three were perfect!

Thinking up ideas on what to do with my apples, Delly, strolled into the alley behind the bakery. She smiled when she saw me, seemingly startled to find standing there.

“Hi, Peeta!” She greeted me sweetly, batting her eyelashes. She did that every now and then but that was as far as her flirting went.

“Hi, Dells!”

“You know, your father lent my mother flour and sugar once, and we never paid back the debt to him. My mother has been feeling guilty that you had to resort on calling the witch of the woods…” She said breathily and handed me two small paper sacks. “Here is for your troubles, even if a little late. Sorry we haven’t been more neighborly towards you and your brothers.” She said sadly.

I chuckled. Not because there was anything amusing in what she said, but because I was just thinking that a bit of flour and sugar could go a long way for my needs right about now. In a bout of excitement, I leaned forward and kissed Delly so close to her mouth, I could feel her breath hitching. I didn’t mean anything by it, I wasn’t looking to court anyone while my life was in shambles, but I saw a certain spark in her blue eyes I’ve caught a few times from girls I’ve gone further with in the past.

“Thank you Delly! This is… it will help immensely.” I said lifting the bags. I tried to step back and put distance between us just to be safe.

“I’m glad my timing was good.” She smiled sweetly.

“Impeccable!” I responded in kind. “When my fortune turns, I swear I’ll bake you the most delicious pie you’ll ever try!” I said not truly thinking on how she might be taking the promise. I was just so relieved I could work something for the next day’s meal.

“I can barely wait.” She said and walked back to her own shop across the road, giving me shyly glances.

In the back of my head a warning went off about not giving Delly the wrong idea, but I couldn’t stop smiling to myself, already I could feel the effects of the curse cracking down around me, and it made me giddy with excitement to think that soon this whole event would be behind us, my brothers would regain their strength and we could become a prosperous trio of bakers soon enough.

 

* * *

 

 

I worked all night scraping old tins of lard from the little remains that could be there, I was surprised it was enough to produce a decent dough, and when I needed and egg for my recipe, an old woman from the Seam wandered into the square across the bakery, looking to trade a solitary egg for a wool blanket. One of my brothers scolded me for downgrading, saying that we could’ve gotten at least half a dozen eggs for that blanket, but I knew desperation all too well to recognize it on the face of the woman.

She needed warmth, and I needed that egg, the trade was good in my book.

Then, I wished I had some cheese. My mind was running fanciful so I shook my head ruefully and set about using my last bit of cinnamon and nutmeg to rub on the apples I had already sliced.

“Peeta, you should change out of that soaked clothing. You’re going to catch your death!” Said Graham eyeing me from his cot.

Since helping my brothers bathe left me with soggy clothes, I figured there was wisdom in changing into clean, dry clothes. Except I had no clean, dry trousers. With heavy heart, I went through a chest we could salvage in the fire from our last meager belongings, looking for the one article of clothing we have left from our father. A pair of dark, sturdy britches he’d wear for important deliveries such as wedding cakes or pastries for the mayor.

“Look at that!” Exclaimed Graham staring at me fondly. “Seem almost tailor made for you, Peet.”

Bran that was between sleep and wakeful looked up then and smiled. “Doubly fitting is the fact, that our brother is the better baker, and a good man.”

I had no words to answer, so I simply kissed my brothers heads and turned away from them before I could cry. Without thinking I slipped a hand into my pocket and to my never ending surprise, I pulled out a silver coin. I turned to my brothers again grinning, showing the money to them.

“Gentlemen, cheese is back on the menu!” I said to my confused brothers and tore out of the house to buy my last ingredient.

Luck was definitely turning around for us!

 

* * *

 

I trudged through the quiet town past the front dark windows of shops with big ‘Closed for the Day’ signs hanging from their main doors peeking in to see if anyone is getting ready for the day, but I was the only soul wandering the streets so early. The moon was still round and bright and the sky that just started turning violet, giving way to bluer hues.

I reached the area called The Seam where miner families lived. It was also still and quiet there, most homes had the shutters and curtains drawn, nothing stirring inside. I envied them in a way. They got to sleep longer than me, and while some of the poorer houses looked drafty and rickety, I was sure the families inside were warmer than my brothers and I were in our ran down bakery.

I reminisced fondly of the times when I had to open my windows at night to let out the stifling heat that leached up into our apartment from the ovens below. Then I remembered being miserable those days too, with the frown and heavy hand of our mother looming on us.

I shook my head shuddering at the memories.

I certainly didn’t miss that!

Finally, I arrived to the wide expanse of open field we call the meadow and took a deep, cleansing breath. I put a foot forward, and the walk after that took to me the edge of the woods, where not many people ventured for different fears.

Fear of wild beasts, fear of poisonous vegetation or snakes, fear of getting too deep in the forest and getting lost in there. And then, there was The Witch. There was an ungodly amount of fear towards her for some reason. I was starting to question why, since she seemed so… harmless and playful. I doubted she had a mean bone in her lithe body, but then again, I’ve only seen her once… for a few minutes.

Before I could doubt my own wandering thoughts, the same orange cat from the previous day strutted from under the bushes and sat regally before me. He gave me a bored once-over before starting to groom himself.

“You don’t like the woods much, do you?” I said studying the feline’s attempt at a dry bath. Thinking fast, I lifted a finger more out of habit, signaling I wanted him to wait for a moment.

I threw a piece of pastry to him and he sniffed it suspiciously. After a minute he ate my offering and purred contentedly after the bite was gone.

The cat stared at me, weighing me up for a moment. I could have sworn he rolled his eyes then and stood shaking a clingy dry leaf from his bushy tail and walked up to me to weave around my legs rubbing his sides on my trousers. I tried to stay still and not think about this were my father’s last remaining possessions, and I very firmly vanished away the fear of possible diseases or parasites hey may be carrying on his fur.

Very slowly, I reached down to it and scratched behind his ear. He was missing part of it and there was signs of old scars on his flat face I hadn’t seen before. “You’re a scrappy little fellow, aren’t ya?” I cooed. The cat only moved under my fingers arching his back while I scratched away. “Would you… by any chance. And it’s okay if you’re not up to it, or if you don’t know.” I stumbled through my small speech to a freaking cat. “Would you by any chance know where Katniss the with of the woods lives?”

Again, the cat purred but he sounded more annoyed than pleased. He swooshed his tail and strutted to the tree line, just stopping shy from to look back at me. He blinked, and so did I. Instinctively, I followed him past the point of comfort. Then the woods came alive with spooky wilderness noises and animals scurrying in the underbrush when I passed by. The cat kept winding around the thick trees, freaking me out for fear of losing him, just to leap from behind a different tree farther ahead and stopping to stare at me expectantly.

We travel like that for a while, the cat sprinting ahead and disappearing from sight long enough to give me heart palpitations, then strutting out from behind some bush or another and looking aggravated at me for taking so long to catch up. The lousy animal was giving me a workout but on I trudge after him, realizing I would be completely lost in the middle of the woods, disoriented and vulnerable. Finally, just as the sun peeked over the treetops, and the foggy mist of morning started to lift, I saw a column of smoke in the distance, and quickened my steps in its direction.

How many other people could live this deep into the forest anyway?

It was a good thing too, since my unreliable guide took off running leaving me in his dust to struggle through the last few yards of overgrown brambles in my on.

I kept huffing and puffing my ragged breaths as I my legs trembled with the exception of rushing through the dense vegetation that suddenly thickened to absurdity. I kept getting poked by really sharp thorns. I saw with relief that ahead were only some pretty bushes with deep green leaves, but as soon as I cleared the thorny plants and stepped into the new bushes, I got mercilessly scratched up by the pointy, inoffensive looking leaves. I cursed loudly when I stubbed my toe on a rock, and a well placed thorn stabbed me in the neck. “Come on!” I yelled at the bushes.

“Mmm… Hey screamy.” Katniss greeted me amusedly.

Of course, my response was to scream like a baby again because, what use was dignity for me at that point? She was leaning over the seemingly endless brambles, resting her elbows on the gnarly plant seemingly unbothered by the thorns, her cheek resting on her palm as she watched me clutch my chest frowning at her.

“Is there a better spot for me to entered?” I asked giving the shrubs a dirty glance.

“Why yes. How come you didn’t ask Buttercup?” She said giving me a quizzical look.

“I would’ve, except I don’t know who Buttercup is, and second I didn’t know I could just ask anyone for anything, really.” I said more sharply than i intended.

She gave me a dazzling smile that just made me forget how aggravated I was. “Sorry you got inconvenienced. This is one of my many layers of protection. Buttercup was supposed to keep you safe from the natural dangers of the woods, as well as lead you through the protective spells. But the little beast is a menace when he gets cranky.”

My mind raced putting together all kinds of information until I inferred that Buttercup was the cat’s name.

She flicked her hand and the thorny bushes and scratchy plants parted into a beautifully cropped archway, and beyond that, was the most stunning landscape I ever saw. A beautiful spongy lawn, as green as an emerald rolled in front of me; little dandelions and daisies peppered the expanse of land cheerfully. Tall, imposing mountains peek above the far ring of trees surrounding the clearing, and right in the middle, sat a quaint little pastel yellow cottage, with a red Dutch door and blue window shutters, a white picket fence and flowers in every color of the rainbow anywhere the eye landed on.

“Well?” She nudged me on the shoulder. “Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there and stare?” She was grinning but it didn’t feel mocking or malicious so I stepped right past the archway and onto the green grass.

“Welcome to my humble abode!” She said extending her arms, and then started running to the cottage. “Come on slowpoke!” She called over her shoulder beckoning with a hand gesture.

I shrugged, reasoning that I came that far and pumped my tired legs to follow her.

We crossed the picket fence and I spotted Buttercup sitting on the porch licking his paw boringly. I glared at him although he was ignoring my presence.

“So, the cat really is yours?” I more stated than asked.

Katniss slowed down and turned her head to regard me. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “He’s my sister’s pet. But since she refuses to learn magic and has decided to stick with mainstream Healing, Buttercup has become my familiar.”

“Familiar?” I asked curiously.

“He helps me channel my power, sometimes does my bidding, we can… talk to each other, though I’m sure you could understand him if you took the time.”

“You talk to the cat and talks back?” I asked dumbstruck.

“Ugh! You can say that! All he does is talk back!” She hissed in Buttercup’s general direction, but he just gave her a disinterested stare.

Then I swore I could see him make all sorts of facial expressions, and decided I was going crazy.

“Hush! Casting your opinion is talking back!” She snapped at the cat out of the blue.

Buttercup must’ve said something else because he stared at her and she gave him an outraged growl. “What do you mean you cannot help that I choose to take your comments in a negative way? Your comments usually aim to get a rise from me!”

While Katniss and Buttercup squabbled, I tried to covertly study her. She was as peculiarly dressed as she had been the day before, for reasons I couldn’t quite name, her clothing mesmerized me. So many leather pieces and so many layers of other contradictory materials! She wore boots that laced up sideways as high as her knees, with what I believed to be leather trousers tucked into the boots. Over the trousers, she wore a gossamer skirt similar to the one from before except the hem only reached to where her boots begun. A white, long sleeved blouse peek under a dark leather fitted vest, tightly laced with ribbons on the front. Her long dark hair fell down her back in a neatly weaved braid. And then I was entranced watching her scowl down at the cat who looked to be bored out of his mind and suddenly meowed stretching his front legs and claws.

Buttercup yawned and leaped from the porch and trotted into the garden between some pretty flowers.

“Fine! Run off you if you will! I’ll stay here and toss out your plate of entrails!” She called after the feline. “Cats!” She muttered annoyedly under her breath.

Katniss gestured for me to follow her inside the cottage, and if I was taken aback by the colorful outside, seeing the interior left me downright speechless. It was definitely bigger inside than it appeared from the outside. Cozy and warm, homey and comfortable. The place radiated both peace and nostalgia. There were comfortable couches with fluffy pillows and thick blankets strewn over the cushions. All the furnishings were rustic wood, bringing to mind the term log cabin. There were at least 3 fireplaces, which explained the smoke I saw in the distance. But I couldn’t remember seeing all the chimneys poking out of the cottage roof, but that only meant that he had to look at it more closely in his way out.

“Come Peeta,” she called walking past me while shuffling a deck of cards dexterously, and taking a sit on a round table in what was obviously the kitchen. There were two tables in the the room, one long cluttered with bowls and baskets full of fruits, vegetables and flowers, roots and all; and the round one she sat at, smaller and cleaned from clutter. “Sit.” She ordered.

I fell into it heavily, realizing I was exhausted from the hike and the basically pointless fight against the thorny bushes from Katniss protective perimeter.

“I brought you something!” I said suddenly remembering the apple and cheese tarts in my knapsack.

There was a look of surprise in her delicate features, but it was gone fast when she told me, “Thank you. You really didn’t have to. But thank you.” She said sincerely taking a small bite of her treat and closing her eyes to enjoy it in peace. “This is really good. And you had to scrape for ingredients. You’re amazing!” She said after she finished her pastry. She added sheepishly, “I had Buttercup watch you last night for a while, and told me about your quest for a decent meal. Thank you for sharing it with me. I know you and your brothers need it.”

“It’s no problem, Katniss. I wanted to share it with you too. It’s not a burden or anything and I’m glad you liked the small dessert.” I told her gratefully. She had already helped immensely and the main wish hasn’t even been asked.

“Well, I truly appreciate your generosity, Peeta Mellark. And now, let’s get down to business.” She said seriously. “You want me to break the nasty curse your mother placed on your family and business.” She said without missing a beat.

I nodded in affirmation. “Correct. I want us to be free from all this bad luck, illness, hunger and cold.”

“Very well.” Katniss shuffled her deck of cards again and fanned them twice. Finally, she asked, “Have you ever had the tarot cards read to you?”

“Um. I can’t say that I had. No.”

“Alright. I’m going to cut the deck thrice and place them before you. Your job is to flip the top card of each pile and let me read what the fates have to say about your future.”

She did as she said she would, and soon three bundles laid in front of Peeta. “Your turn? Katniss said with a smile and flourish of her hand.

I turned the first card and it was good news according to what Katniss explained about it. The next card had her thinking deeply but after a moment she gestured for me to continue. The last card was called “The infant”

“Mmm. That can’t be right.” She said bring over a cup of tea with finely crushed leaves.”drink this, and then pass me the cup when you are done.”

She offered sugar, but I politely refused and I sipped on my beverage, eating my own pastry. Once done with my snack, I handed her my cup and she practically shoved her nose into it.

“It’s here too!” She said frowning. Then she looked up at me. “Peeta, What are you willing to give for this curse to be broken?” She asked seriously. “Every piece of magic requires a payment. And sometimes it’s something we didn’t intend to part with.”

“I’m willing to give anything! Even my own leg if you ask of it.”

“Well, the good news is that you get to keep your legs… the bad news… is that in order for your curse to be completely broken, you have to give me your first born!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you had a great Halloween. We had a busy one, and I’m exhausted.  
> Don’t eat all y’all’s candy at once and remember to set forward your clocks Saturday night!!!!
> 
> Happy November!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is unbetaed and choppily edited because of reasons... please enjoy and don’t judge the glaring mistakes scare you away.
> 
> I’d love to hear from you!!!!


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